Just as the Spiritual Essence Jade Marrow was about to be tucked away into Zong Shou’s sleeve, a cold snort rose up.

That purple-masked Daoist had finally weathered the onslaught of starlight. A golden shield shattered completely, and his arms were marred with wounds.

Yet, he refused to pause for even a moment. A streak of sword light lashed out—silver-white, scattering like falling leaves, sweeping towards Zong Shou.

He managed barely four steps before colliding once more with the shifting pattern of the protective array, triggering another ten beams of starlight to descend.

Zong Shou’s lips curled into a mocking smile. The Broken Autumn Sword in his hand sliced out in a single strike. The sword flashed a thousand times in an instant, piercing into the torrent of sword light.

Clang!

A sharp chime sounded as the two dominant martial intents violently collided. Then, with a resounding boom, Zong Shou stepped back half a pace.

The purple-faced Daoist’s expression turned ashen, and the web of sword shadows he had woven suddenly dispersed. The silver-white sword light followed immediately, darting through the dense weave like a swallow returning to its nest, weaving unimpeded through the openings, rapidly tracing its source right toward his throat and brow.

Spanning ten paces of space, nothing could impede it; in less than a fraction of a breath, it was upon him.

With a muffled groan, a thin crimson line burst forth from the purple-faced Daoist’s neck just as, unwilling to yield, he violently retreated, narrowly evading the sharp sword beam. In that instant, he triggered over a dozen restrictive formations behind him.

He could only watch helplessly as Zong Shou pocketed the Spiritual Essence Jade Marrow into his own Qiankun Pouch.

Now, over a hundred beams of starlight struck down in succession. The purple-masked Daoist gritted his teeth, flicking out several second-grade talismans to shield himself. He struggled to parry the incoming starlight bombardment, his voice chilling, "Brother Fang Ming! I implore your aid! If we can retrieve the Spiritual Essence Jade Marrow, we shall split it evenly!"

Fang Ming paused, hesitating slightly as if weighing the benefits. Finally, he smiled faintly toward Zong Shou, a subtle gleam in his eyes.

"Your Highness Zong Shou! You obtained this Spiritual Essence Jade Marrow only because Daoist Brother Shang Yue exerted himself fully to withstand and constrain the array’s starlight. Since it was obtained through combined effort, why not divide it equally?"

The purple-masked Daoist Shang Yue immediately felt a flicker of joy. Zong Shou glanced over upon hearing this. Though Fang Ming smiled and his tone seemed sincere, there was an inexplicable chill beneath his expression.

Zong Shou found it amusing. What did the array’s starlight descending from above have to do with him? Touching the spiritual formation was Shang Yue’s own impatience and loss of composure—he had only himself to blame.

The fact that Shang Yue had attacked him without restraint earlier had crossed Zong Shou’s bottom line.

Yet, listening to Fang Ming, it sounded as if Zong Shou’s success in acquiring the Jade Marrow was entirely due to Shang Yue’s contribution.

Truly worthy of being the righteous and benevolent Fang Ming, the Great Scholar Fang—

A light laugh echoed through the void. Just as the two felt bewildered, several silver lights, like clouds or mist, suddenly flashed from Zong Shou’s hand and shot straight toward Shang Yue.

The distance of several dozen feet was crossed in mere moments. Only when they were a few paces from Shang Yue did the two clearly see what had been launched.

"Flying Daggers?"

A total of five, inch-long blades streaked forward. Fang Ming instantly recalled a rumor concerning Zong Shou. Shang Yue felt his scalp tingle and a surge of horror run through him; he instinctively retreated violently backward.

Sword shadows flickered, and spiritual talismans were struck out. Enduring the continuous bombardment of stellar energy beams from above, he managed to parry and shatter, one by one, these flying daggers that could change direction with him—daggers that were even sharper, faster, and far more heavy and fierce than a sword cultivator’s blade.

Just as the last flying dagger was about to be shattered by his sword strike—

Zong Shou’s sword abruptly ripped through the air at that precise moment.

Instant Sky Dragon Sword! Flash!

As the sword emerged, the entire void seemed to freeze, leaving only the brilliant blade light flashing. Shang Yue’s mind tensed to the absolute limit, preparing to pour all his strength into blocking the incoming strike.

But the sword light vanished before his eyes and, in the next instant, was already at his throat.

Even before the blade pierced the flesh, the fierce sword energy had already shredded his cervical spine. Head and body separated, then tumbled down into the void.

Then, the canopy of starlight descended, completely blasting Shang Yue’s corpse into fine dust!

Zong Shou’s Broken Autumn Sword slid back into its sheath as if nothing had happened, and he brushed off the sleeves of his robe.

"Brother Fang, the man is gone. Do you still wish to divide this Spiritual Essence Jade Marrow?"

Fang Ming had only just arrived about ten paces behind Shang Yue. He had witnessed with his own eyes the death of this Spirit Martial Venerable, whose aura he had suppressed to the seventh rank, right before him.

Fang Ming sucked in a sharp breath, then looked at Zong Shou with an expression that was not only complex but also laced with a degree of fear.

"It seems there's no need to divide it after all!"

A trace of regret flickered in his eyes. He had somewhat forgotten that in a place where power was restricted to the seventh rank, Zong Shou, possessing the Spiritual Sword Intent, was likely even more terrifying than when he possessed two Silver-Armored Paper Men outside the hall. Here, he was like a fish in water. Could he have blocked that single strike?

Zong Shou grinned, taking Shang Yue’s Qiankun Pouch into his hand.

The wealth of a ninth-rank Spirit Martial Venerable was indeed substantial. There were over twenty ninth-rank beast crystals alone. However, perhaps due to prior heavy expenditure, there were very few talismans, and only two spiritual artifacts were damaged. In addition, there were some proprietary spiritual elixirs from the Dao Ming Sect. Naturally, there were no pleasant surprises like those two Puppet Descent Talismans.

Exchanging these items for his third-rank Cloud Flame Flying Daggers, which were quickly falling behind his pace, was worth it.

Over a year and a half, Zong Shou had nurtured a total of nine such flying daggers; his current stock was now depleted. To employ the Six Gods Blade Control Art again, he would need to cultivate new ones. The newly refined sixth-rank Cloud Flame Flying Daggers would finally be put to use.

Behind him, Fang Ming’s face cycled through shades of green and white. Seeing Zong Shou about to turn and leave, he suddenly spoke out, "I find Your Highness’s actions overly brutal and domineering! Shang Yue was an elder of the Dao Ming Sect, yet Your Highness killed him so readily. The Primitive Demon Sect was the same before. Young Master Jian Jueyu is alone and fears nothing. But I observe Your Highness still has the Qian Tian Mountain to worry about—are you not concerned about retaliation from these two great sects afterward?"

Zong Shou merely shook his head, too lazy to engage, and stepped into the far end of the spiritual array.

Did he need to explain to Fang Ming that it was precisely because Shang Yue hailed from the Dao Ming Sect that Zong Shou killed him without reservation?

This man had terrible luck, stumbling upon Zong Shou at the height of his murderous intent since arriving in this realm.

Let alone having provoked him, even if he hadn't, Zong Shou would have proactively stepped forward to kick him.

His impression of Fang Ming wasn't much better at this moment. If he weren't forcefully restraining himself, he would have already drawn his sword to ask Fang Ming what fate awaited him today!

It was as if he stepped through a thin film. When Zong Shou crossed this paper-thin spatial barrier and stabilized himself, he saw before him an immense and boundless void.

However, this void was filled with countless halls—thousands upon thousands, densely packed yet arranged systematically within.

According to Ye Feishuang, the Dragon Clan placed treasures they could bestow upon their descendants here each year, setting corresponding trials.

If one passed, they would receive the item; if not, there was only a consolation prize.

Moreover, after taking any item from these halls, the difficulty would increase by one degree with each subsequent attempt.

Theoretically, one could continue taking trials in this inheritance ground indefinitely, but as of today, even the most gifted of the Dragon Clan had never managed to retrieve the eighth spiritual item.

As Zong Shou gazed into the distance, Fang Ming crossed the thin membrane behind him and entered this space.

Glancing sideways at Zong Shou, feeling that the youth was altogether too dangerous, he immediately headed toward another direction without hesitation.

Though he was a ninth rank, being suppressed here, standing beside Zong Shou made him feel perpetually endangered, as if he could lose his life at any moment.

The way this person looked at him also felt strange, as if Zong Shou were merely a piece of meat on a cutting board, scrutinizing the most opportune place to strike.

Zong Shou paid him no mind. After observing for a while and comparing it with the inheritance memory provided by Ye Feishuang, he finally shook his head inwardly.

Fourteen thousand years had passed; the changes here were too vast, making it impossible to match. It seemed he would have to seek out those few items himself.

This Dragon Clan inheritance trial was quite user-friendly; one could see what treasures lay inside from the hall entrance.

Whether one recognized them was another matter entirely.

One could arbitrarily choose a hall to enter and challenge. Nothing one wouldn't use would be mistakenly taken.

Zong Shou walked leisurely through the void, hands behind his back, his look of astonishment deepening the further he went.

The wealth of the Dragon Clan truly was not an exaggeration.

Across the four tiers of Heaven, Earth, Black, and Yellow, not a single spiritual item here was below the Black Tier. Artifacts and elixirs were all at the Dharma level.

Even those slightly lower in rank possessed remarkable spiritual qualities and were extremely practical.

Zong Shou browsed as if taking a fleeting glance. Including the Spiritual Essence Jade Marrow, he had acquired five items already.

The two items he was most focused on now were the Core Pill of the Divine Realm Sin Dragon and the Dragon Spirit Blood Genesis Elixir.

Though he possessed the Primordial Spring of Essence, Zong Shou felt it best to obtain this elixir as well, just in case.

Judging by Ye Feishuang’s tone, this spiritual elixir seemed extraordinarily profound. Since it could enter the Primordial Spring of Essence to mend injuries, perhaps it could also benefit Ao Kun.

While contemplating, Zong Shou walked casually before a jade-white hall. Almost mechanically, he peered inside, and in the next instant, his eyes snapped wide open. In the center of the hall rested a crystal core.

The moment it caught his eye, Little Gold on his arm agitated violently and lunged toward it.

Zong Shou’s hand was swift; he snatched Little Gold out of the air and let out a hearty laugh.

"Luck! It’s actually an Immortal-grade High-Rank Myriad Manifestation Crystal Core—"